Bonnie Jack

by Ian Hamilton

  “Okay, although one thing kept worrying me. How is Duncan Pike going to persuade that man Duff to come up with a story that helps us? You may not want to tell Harry and Georgie, but I’d like to know.”

  “He’s going to pay him.”

  “I thought as much — though I did imagine a few more sinister options,” she said. “Why didn’t you want to tell Georgie and Harry?”

  “They live here. I thought it better that they don’t know, in case something goes wrong and there’s blowback,” he said.

  “Is Pike confident Duff will co-operate?”

  “He is, mainly because of the people he’ll use to negotiate with him.”

  “That does sound more sinister.”

  “Pike knows the system. We’d be foolish not to let him do his thing.”

  “You’re putting a lot of faith in a man you just met.”

  “Harry said he comes highly recommended. That was confirmed when I saw how the police treated him,” Jack said. “Besides, I like to think I’m a good judge of character, and I felt comfortable with him from the start.”

  Anne sighed. “Okay, I feel better about Pike, but I am worried about Georgie. She looked frightful last night, and when she called here about half an hour ago, she sounded despondent.”

  “She went through a lot yesterday. For someone who wasn’t sure she even wanted to see McPherson, she certainly let loose the first chance she got.”

  “It had probably been building up in her for years. I’m not surprised that she couldn’t contain her emotions,” Anne said.

  “What did she say when she called?”

  “She and Harry are suggesting a place for dinner tonight that is about three blocks from here.”

  “That’s fine with me.”

  “Then call Harry and let him know,” she said. “I’ve been waiting for you to get up so I can shower.”

  Shortly after Anne left for the bathroom, there was a knock at the door from room service. Jack exchanged the old coffee for the new and sat down at the desk with a fresh cup. He phoned Harry. “Hey, it’s Jack. How are you feeling?”

  “I have mixed emotions. Mainly I regret not trying harder to talk you out of going to the pub.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up about that. I wouldn’t have changed my mind,” Jack said. “Anne told me that Georgie sounded a bit down when she spoke to her this morning. How did she seem to you?”

  “She blames herself for what happened to McPherson.”

  “The man had a heart attack. It could have happened anywhere, anytime, and for any reason.”

  “She doesn’t care about him; she’s concerned that his death will cause you problems. She’s a natural worrier, and she won’t stop stewing about it until Pike says you’re in the clear.”

  “I’m a worrier too, but I have a lot of confidence in Pike,” Jack said.

  “Georgie is on her way here now. I’ll tell her that when she arrives.”

  “Please do, and I’ll talk to her as well.”

  “I can usually calm her down,” said Harry. “Plus she loves the Caledonia Steak House. Dinner will improve her mood.”

  “That’s the place you’re recommending for dinner?”

  “It’s the city’s best steakhouse.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Do you mind if we eat early? None of us slept well and we’re all eager for an early night.”

  “Not at all.”

  “I’ll book a table for six o’clock.”

  Jack poured another cup of coffee and carried it to the window. To his surprise, the sky was a clear blue with only a smattering of clouds. He had become so accustomed to the rain that he’d almost forgotten there were other types of Scottish weather.

  “What are you thinking?” Anne said from behind him.

  “Let’s go for a walk. My body could use the exercise and it will help clear my head.”

  “You aren’t going to work for a while? There’s an envelope on the desk that was slid under the door last night. I imagine it’s full of faxes from the office.”

  “The office can wait for a day. I want to go for a walk.”

  “Where do you want to go?”

  “Nowhere in particular. Let’s just roam. We’ll explore the city on our own.”

  “That’s a great idea. I’m ready any time you are,” she said.

  “I’ll throw on some clothes. I can shower and shave when we get back.”

  Ten minutes later they left the hotel with a small pamphlet and a map. They walked along the Royal Mile, which ran just south of the Old Town. The area was well signed, and Jack and Anne debated where to start. Anne argued for the Greyfriars Kirkyard, which had been founded in 1560 and contained the graves of many distinguished Scots. Jack gave in to her. He had never understood Anne’s fascination with cemeteries, but he followed along as she read the headstones.

  They left the Kirkyard and walked uphill to the Old Town. The grey stone buildings that loomed over the narrow streets were as old as the graveyard. They stopped for coffee and then did some shopping for the grandchildren.

  It was almost four o’clock when they left the Old Town. “We can walk another half mile or so down Holyrood Road to Holyrood Palace, or cross over and visit the National Museum,” she said.

  “We don’t have enough time for a decent museum visit,” Jack said.

  “Holyrood is the Queen’s official residence when she’s in Scotland,” Anne said. “We can do a quick tour.”

  Even with the quick tour, it was five o’clock when they got back to their room. The telephone light was blinking.

  “I wonder who called,” Anne said nervously.

  Jack picked up the phone. There were two messages from Duncan Pike, half an hour apart. Both times he said simply, “This is Duncan Pike. Call me when you can.”

  “It was Pike. He called twice. He doesn’t sound alarmed,” Jack said, dialling the lawyer’s number.

  Pike answered the phone himself. “Jack, thank you for calling back so promptly,” he said.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No, it’s actually very good news. Duff paid a visit to the police station at three this afternoon. He was accompanied by a lawyer who has a long-standing but unofficial relationship with my firm. Duff told Chief Inspector Henderson that the statement he gave last night was inaccurate. He said he’d had too much to drink and was confused, that things were clearer this morning and he wanted to set the record straight. He then put the blame squarely on McPherson for everything that transpired. The police were understandably skeptical and asked him several pointed questions, but according to the lawyer, Duff stood up well to them.”

  “That is very good news,” Jack said.

  “It will cost you about what I thought. Duff will get three thousand, another two hundred will go to the go-betweens, and the lawyer’s fee is three hundred,” Pike said. “The lawyer was a last-minute decision. I decided it would be too risky to depend on Duff alone; I wanted to be one hundred percent sure about what he actually told the police.”

  “The money isn’t an issue,” Jack said. “Again you have my thanks.”

  “We’re still waiting on official word that no charges will be laid. I’m very confident that will be the case, but I suspect the police won’t say anything until they have McPherson’s medical report,” said Pike. “I’ve asked a contact at the hospital to let me know when they send their report. You can be assured that I’ll be on the phone with Henderson shortly thereafter.”

  Jack nodded at Anne, who was staring at him. “What a relief this is, Duncan. You’ve done a wonderful job.”

  Pike hesitated. “There’s one other thing I need to tell you that isn’t quite so wonderful.”

  “What is that?” Jack asked, immediately on edge.

  “I got a call twenty minutes ago from a r
eporter with the Glasgow Tribune. The paper is a bit of a rag, a morning tabloid that peddles sensationalism. He asked me if I was representing you in relation to McPherson’s death,” Pike said. “I told him that I never discuss clients but I had heard rumblings that McPherson, a known felon, had dropped dead of a heart attack.”

  “How would they know about McPherson?”

  “The paper has stringers at various police stations. For the price of a few pints they’re given access to booking sheets and the like. I assume someone on the inside gave them your name and told them about McPherson.”

  “Should I be concerned about this?”

  “Has anyone from the paper tried to contact you?”

  “No.”

  “Then they probably won’t. But if they do, I strongly suggest that you don’t speak to them at all. They can take a simple ‘no comment’ and turn it into a one-act play.”

  “I’ll follow your advice.”

  “Excellent. Now enjoy the rest of your evening. You’ll hear from me again tomorrow, hopefully with positive news from our friends in the police force.”

  Jack hung up. Anne was still looking at him anxiously. “He gave me an update. Duff went to the police and changed his story. Pike thinks I should be officially off the hook tomorrow.”

  “Why did you ask him if you should be concerned?”

  “He was contacted by a Glasgow newspaper asking questions about McPherson.”

  “What kind of questions?” she said, her anxiety even more apparent.

  “Anne, I don’t know what kind of questions, because Pike didn’t let it get to that point,” he said, now wishing he hadn’t mentioned it. “As I said, Pike put them off.”

  “Still, a newspaper —”

  “Forget about the newspaper. Pike made it clear their interest was in McPherson. The man had a criminal record and has been written about before. His name probably rang a bell,” he said. “Now I need to get ready for dinner.”

  The sun had almost set and there was a nip in the air when they left the hotel. Anne shivered and pressed against Jack. The concierge’s directions to the Caledonia Steak House took them in the opposite direction from the Old Town. That meant an uphill walk into a light wind that stifled any conversation.

  They reached the Angus exactly at six to find Harry, Barbara, and Georgie already there. Jack wasn’t accustomed to being the last to arrive for anything. “Sorry for being on time,” he said with a smile as he approached the table.

  “Georgie came by the house and we left together,” Harry said. “I had anticipated traffic that didn’t materialize.”

  “I was joking,” Jack said, and then held out his arms in Georgie’s direction.

  She came to her feet, wrapped her arms around his neck, and squeezed. “Did you get some sleep?” she asked.

  “About eight hours,” he said.

  “Did you dream about him?” she asked.

  “No, I didn’t. Did you?” he said, noticing an urgency to her question.

  “No, but I can’t get him out of my head. I keep seeing his leering face.”

  “I’m not sure I’ll ever stop seeing it,” Jack said, and then stepped back to look at her. “Speaking of faces, how are you doing?”

  “I’m okay, though I was so groggy when I woke that I quite forgot about my mouth. It was a bit of a shock when I looked in the mirror.”

  “The bottom lip doesn’t look quite as swollen as it did last night,” Anne said, leaving Barbara’s arms to hug Georgie.

  “It isn’t, but the colour is godawful. Liz says a heavy coat of lipstick should help,” Georgie said. “I have to do something, because I can’t afford to take any more days off work.”

  As they sat down the waiter arrived with a drinks menu. Harry, Barbara, and Georgie already had theirs. Jack ordered a double Scotch and a gin martini for Anne.

  “How was your day?” Jack asked Harry.

  “Completely uneventful, thank God. And yours?”

  “The same.”

  “That isn’t exactly true,” Anne said. “Duncan Pike called.”

  “You’re smiling, Anne. Can we assume it was with good news?” asked Harry.

  “Jack should tell you himself,” she said.

  “I was going to wait until things were absolutely certain,” Jack said.

  “That would be unfair,” Georgie said.

  Jack grimaced. “Well, all right, since I don’t seem to have any choice. Pike said that McPherson’s friend changed his story. He went to the police station with a lawyer and reversed his recounting of last night’s events. He told them McPherson instigated the violence against Georgie and then threatened me.”

  “Which means the police aren’t going to lay charges against Jack,” Anne said.

  “Pike wasn’t quite that definite,” Jack said.

  “But he was close?” Georgie asked.

  “Yes, he was close, but he didn’t offer a guarantee.”

  “It would have been irresponsible if he had,” Harry said. “Still, it all sounds very positive.”

  “It is, but I don’t believe in taking things for granted. I don’t want any celebrations until we know the outcome.”

  The waiter returned with the drinks for Anne and Jack. As soon as he had put them down, Harry raised his glass. “Here’s to family.”

  After they had toasted, Jack looked around the table and felt a surge of emotion. “I’m so happy to have found you,” he said.

  “And we couldn’t be happier that you did,” Harry said.

  An hour and a half later, Anne and Jack watched the others get into Harry’s car and then walked downhill to their hotel, Anne clutching his arm again. She stumbled once or twice where the sidewalk was uneven. “Are you drunk?” he asked.

  “Just a bit.”

  “That was a nice evening.”

  “Certainly better than last night.”

  “Let’s not talk about that anymore,” he said. “I was thinking again about inviting them to Wellesley. The summer would be a good time.”

  “We could do that, but I was also thinking it would be nice to bring the kids here to see where you were born and to meet everyone, and to support Liz at the Pitlochry Festival.”

  “We could do both.”

  “That would take up a lot of time. Are you thinking of retiring earlier than planned?”

  “No, but we can work around my schedule.”

  “That would be a welcome change.”

  He stopped walking and looked at his wife. “Has our life really been that bad?”

  “Bad is a word I’d never use,” she said. “Difficult, however . . .”

  “I know I can be difficult.”

  She smiled. “Whenever any of the children say that about you — and all of them have — I always tell them you’re just more tightly focused than the rest of us.”

  He leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips. “I love you more than anything in my life.”

  “No, you don’t, but it’s enough that you love me as much as you do.”

  28

  They made love for the first time in ages that night, and afterwards they lay contentedly in each other’s arms until Jack had to go to the bathroom. When he returned, Anne had put on her pajamas. He did the same and kissed her.

  Jack got up twice during the night to use the washroom, and each time he had trouble getting back to sleep. Despite his confidence in Duncan Pike, there were still doubts in his mind that things would go as smoothly as the lawyer thought. He couldn’t shake the idea that it was still possible for him to be charged with something. He knew it was unlikely, and he knew he wasn’t being entirely logical. But he had no control over what was happening, and that was a situation he wasn’t accustomed to.

  At six Jack got out of bed and went into the living room. He ordered coffee f
rom room service, retrieved the manila envelope that had been slid under the door, and put it under the one that had arrived the day before. He had two days of work to catch up on, and he was happy at the prospect. For the next couple of hours he read, annotated, and replied to the faxes sent by Pam. His attention was centred intensely on matters that — he reminded himself with a smile — were still his business.

  It was almost eight o’clock when the phone rang. Jack was immersed in the summary of a report he’d requested on the pros and cons of acquiring a large regional insurance company in Denver. He didn’t hear the phone until the third ring. “Jack Anderson,” he answered.

  “This is Harry.”

  Jack heard tension in his voice. “Has something happened?”

  “It most definitely has. The Glasgow Tribune has a headline about McPherson splashed across its front page, and a story about us on the second page.”

  “What does it say?” Jack said through clenched teeth.

  “I don’t want to read it to you,” Harry said, his voice shaking. “You need to see it for yourself. They’ll have a copy at the hotel.”

  “Pike said the paper was snooping around. They called him yesterday but he wouldn’t talk to them. He told me the paper is a rag.”

  “You didn’t mention that to us last night.”

  “Pike made nothing of it, so I didn’t think it was important.”

  “Well, Pike was wrong to ignore them. The paper is a rag, all right, but while it isn’t The Scotsman or The Times of London, it is one of the most widely read papers in the country.”

  “I had a hunch things weren’t going to run as smoothly as Pike thought.”

  “Jack, please, do me a favour,” Harry said. “Go downstairs, buy the newspaper, and then call me right back.”

  “I’ll do that,” Jack said, putting down the phone. The cold sweat had returned, and he had a lump in his stomach the size of a tennis ball. He tried to collect himself, but his mind was jumping in ten different directions. He knew he had to read the paper. He reached for the phone again and called the concierge. “Could you bring two copies of this morning’s Glasgow Tribune to my room,” he said. “Do it right away, please.”